Long Louis Poems
Long Louis Poems. Below are the most popular long Louis by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Louis poems by poem length and keyword.
Online:Profile
(LIE): "Hi! I am a single man, Bachelor clean shaven not even a mustache"
Truth: I'm a cheat, dirty soiled minimal waged job go-tee liken a cat or muskrat
(LIE): Born in Saint Louis Missouri Own my Marketing Company
Truth: Birth in Caviler, Mississippi 2 generation catfish fisherman, got 2 girlfriends one I call my wife;
Have a total of 6 children (one's belongs to the mid wife);
(LIE): Live in a Town home paid for has 4 Bedrooms, Library, Den 5 baths;
Truth: I live in the what we call the bottoms in a shack;
(LIE): 28 Years old
Truth: 57 man that's bold your youngest girlfriend 20
(LIE): Picture posted Clean shaven, Good looking chiseled chin handsome neat trimmed hair
Truth: Such a old intended man with a mustache liken a 1920 criminal whisker like barbels around the mouth only got 3 teeth at bottom of his mouth
Looking like some crazy big-eyed Catfish a freshwater or marine fish with,
typically bottom-dwelling.
In reality I am not the picture posted, I'm not that good looking really
The cat fishing getting better and better fishing the Mississippi River,
far below its normal level
(LIE):Let's meet at a private(public) placement go on a date
Signed: Austen Daniels
Truth: My name is Alan Dunes Jr.
…...........“And I ain't got nothing but trouble for you we're gonna hook up on
Jerry Springer”
GIRLFRIEND,Ya just been...........
CATFISHED
05/12/18
Catfish - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Catie Lindsey
Boots across his shoulders, striding through the park
Bright young man of 20, out to make his mark
On his way to Ayresome, living out the dream
Playing centre forward for his hometown football team
And yeah, I was there.
Goals were this lad's business, poaching was his game
Scoring by the dozen, on his way to fame
Stealing all the headlines, stirring up the crowd
Mixing it with hard men, bloody but unbowed
And yeah, I was there.
Never ducked a tackle, never jacked it in,
Never stopped competing till a draw became a win
Always put his head there, always had a go
Always 90 minutes and he always stole the show
Looking back in wonder, deep down memory lane
Matchdays in the Holgate, sunshine through the rain
Five fantastic seasons, never quite enough
The legend in my lifetime that was Boro's Brian Clough
And yeah, I was there
Oh yeah....... I was there.
-------------------------
Thank you for reading this.
WATCH ME SING THIS IN CONCERT ON YOUTUBE, 'BOOTS - LOUIS SPENCE' THANK YOU.
If my story be told, Lord, I’d have to confess,
I’m a rattlesnake scoundrel, no more and no less.
But I’ll bet even Jesus forgives me my vice.
Seems we both lost our shirt on a throw of the dice.
I’m a graceless, tasteless gamblin’ man,
A working class wager, a Labor Day scam.
Ask not what I’ll give ya, I don’t give a damn.
I’m just a hard gamblin’ man.
I’m a bitter-fruit flower, a weed to the root.
Keep a seven-inch lock-blade tucked in my boot.
See, if life’s been a lesson, then I ain’t learned sh*t.
I’m a bad bridge to cross and a good job to quit.
I’m a ruthless, truthless gamblin’ man,
A head full of fever, a mouth full of sand.
I tip the night porter with blood on my hand.
I’m just a hard gamblin’ man.
Don’t play games with my heart, girl, you’re messin’ with sin.
I’m a slick soulless devil. You ain’t gonna win.
If you’re tryin’ to bluff, I’ll be readin’ your mind.
If you’ve got a full house, I’ll have four-of-a-kind.
I’m a shameless, blameless gamblin’ man.
I’ve been to St. Louis. I’ve been to Japan.
Ain’t slept with a woman I never outran.
I’m just a hard gamblin’ man.
In an old-time real-book-with-pages feel in his day,
Robert Louis Stevenson wrote 'Treasure Island',
in his own inimitable way,
and tho' I know I may be wrong,
he could not have been pulling Long John Silver's leg,
as John would not have had a leg to stand on,
for, with his crutch (plus parrot), and I quote,
'He had still a foot in either camp.'
is that which, in 1883, Stevenson of Silver wrote.
Was it black (spot) humour to write of Long John so,
as I dearly need to know,
and it clearly goes to show,
we need much more input,
with that said, putting my best one forward,
it begs the question, 'What's afoot?'
I wandered lonely as a cloud
Stop right there for crying out loud
Plagiarism is not allowed
You'll be lynched by the P.S. crowd.
Okay, to be or not to be
Now come on you're being silly
They'll complain and they'll be suing
Ask you what it is you're doing.
Start again and think real hard
Don't be stealing from the bard
I'm struggling, need some inspiration
To create a rhyme sensation.
Grey brick upon brick, I'm on my way
That sounds good what do you say
I think I've heard that one before
But don't stop now do give us more.
Problem is my muse has flown
She's left me struggling all alone
I've placed an advert in the Times
For a muse who's good at rhymes.
If one replies and answers back
I'll be on fire, back on track
But until then I'll have a rest
Then I'll be up there with the best.
For the purpose of this rhyme I've used three lines from three famous poets listed below.
William Wordsworth
William Shakespeare
and Louis MacNiece.
Written on 13th August for Nina Parmenters Rattling Rhyme contest.
What if....?
Death was a lottery,
With a Powerball price of a million dollars
Will people still queue up to play?
What if death was a clock, and you had one option
To either fast forward, pause, or rewind it; What will your option be?
What if death was a bank, and one could advocate with it;
Request death forgiveness, death deferment, or death forbearance?
What about death refinancing or death equity?
What if death was like a touch tone phone
And one could put death on hold;
Press zero to bypass mesmerizing angels of death at the reception;
And pally or advocate directly with death?
What if death was a court,
And one could ask for an interlocutory injunction,
Or death arbitration, death adjournment or deferment?
What if death was a wish,
Will beggars still elect to ride, or bolt like Usain?
What if death was cash and carry,
Will the rich, high and mighty,
Be so generous with their cash, as they are to brand names like:
Ferrari, Bugatti and Louis Vuitton?
Or will they chicken out like a cold Turkey?
What if death was a rain check
Will people Queue up to cash in on it?
What if death was like a set of clothes
And one could change from it
Like a Snake discards it's old and worn out skin?
What if death was a marathon
Who would elect to first breast the tape?
What if death was a school or an exam,
And one could do a remediation, carry death over,
Select another elective, or take a death sabbatical?
What if death was an essential commodity
Would you put it on layaway
And make installment plan ?
What if death was a widow,
Will people still accept a widows mite? What if.....?
In the heart of some dark English city
Came a sight that turned everyone's head
When as if from some dream came a wonderful team
In a wild sea of Boro Red.
Through all of my life it's been with me
All the fears, all the tears that I've bled
It wont run it wont yield it's my comfort and shield
This wild sea of Boro Red
Now this is a beautiful color
When I've worn it I've laughed and I've cried
It was hewn from the iron men of legend
And its run through with passion and pride
And now my Red Lion days are closing
As I lie on my funeral bed
I can see once again all those magical men
In a wild sea of Boro Red.
Sorrow soon be gone, glory fill my eyes
Boro I was born and Boro I will die
Never stopped believing, I kept my spirits high
Boro I was born and Boro I will die.
-----------------------------------------
Hear me sing this on youtube.
Google Boro Red. Louis Spence.
Thanks for reading.
In May the year of 1912 Albert left his home in Lyon.
He made his way to ecole Sommer at Genever's Mourmelon.
In June, with circuit d'Anjou done, and with his engineer,
Albert deployed a newer engine, with eighty horse power thrust.
Leon Bathiat, colleague and friend that really he should trust
and himself a brilliant pilot, begged Albert not to try.
But on the 9th of June, while first ascending to the sky,
some say they saw a wing detach, and fighting roller coaster loops
watched plane and men fall tumbling from the sky.
Barely in his thirtieth year Albert, with his engineer,
was destined then to die.
Those daring men In their flying machines sought fame and early fortune.
Grand oncle Albert was also one, Grand oncle Albert Louis,
Affectionately known to my father as oncle Albert Louis, 'Kiki.'
Context,
Boer War , South Africa
The Battle for Spion Kop
Slag van Spioenkop
Ladysmith , Natal
23 January 1900
British forces under the command
Sir Redvers Buller
Dug in to take the higher ground
on Spion Kop
In order to engage the Boer army
encircling below
Lead by General Louis Botha
The rest is written down in history, folklore and infamy
And a famous football club's stand named after it
Dedicated to it's fallen
2nd Battalion Lancashire Fusseliers
243 Dead
1250 Casualties
I write this only because,
i myself visited this hilltop graveyard paid homage and knelt before it's unkept memorial upon it
And instead of feeling what i thought
i should be the travesty, horror and
utter futility of war
And whilst leaving took 1 final glance over my shoulder at the vista and panorama only to be over come by the sheer unadulterated serenity and beauty
And i left perversely thinking what a beautiful place to die
Death has a hell of a lot to live up too
Don't judge each day by the harvest you reap but by
the seeds that you plant. ~ Robert Louis Stevenson
When sowing in a fallow field
A bumper crop you'll hope to yield
For many folks, do a good deed
Think of others when planting seed
Share your harvest and you will find
Daily blessings for being kind
Don't desire avarice or greed
Think of others when planting seed
Do not have a bad attitude
For everything show gratitude
Tomorrow you just might succeed
Think of others when planting seed
May your garden be filled with sprouts
And your days not be plagued by doubts
Do not allow contempt to breed
Think of others when planting seed
Your days will bear sweet ripened fruit
And grow when love has taken root
Keep your field free of tangled weeds
Think of others when planting seeds